Here's the third part of The Fragile. My writer's block disappeared last night after I uploaded part 2, so hopefully I'll be writing steadily now, instead of in spurts. J
Disclaimer: Profiler unfortunately doesn't belong to me. L It belongs to NBC, Court TV, Sander/ Moses Productions and (gags) Mr. Steven Kronish. If it belonged to me, It would still be on the air, in the top 20. J and yes, I love KoRn. They are awesome. J
And now, onto part three…
The Fragile Pt.3
Sam and I hop into my car and I smoothly pull out of the Task Force parking lot into the light Atlanta night traffic. Sam closes her eyes wearily.
"Didn't get any sleep on the way here?"
"Only about half an hour or so," Sam admits, beginning to yawn.
"Then why don't you get some now? It's a couple hours drive to Macon, and you're gonna need some energy when we get there." She considers my advice and nods.
"You're right. Wake me up when we arrive," Sam says, and within minutes she's fast asleep.
"I glance over at her sadly, thinking of all the stuff she's had to go through. Sam has got to be one of the toughest people I know. Having to deal with a serial killer murdering your husband and stalking you while you're trying to raise a little girl isn't something most people could deal with on a daily basis. But somehow she managed to do it, and admirably.
The radio station I'm listening to begins to talk about the daring escape, and I immediately change the station. 'Make me Bad' by KoRn is playing, and I absently begin to tap my fingers to the beat on the steering wheel as my thoughts turn back to my sleeping passenger.
I remember when I first met her. God, I was such an asshole, getting on her case about her profile of that female serial killer…and then of course having to deal with Bailey banging down my door and reaming me out a new asshole about having George do a background check on her didn't help any.
Sam shifts in her seat and mutters sleepily as I smile to myself, stepping on the gas and leaving Atlanta behind.
Two hours later, on the outskirts of Macon, we reach a roadblock. I've gone through one already, but apparently the concept of radioing ahead to let any of the other cops know we're coming is a foreign concept. With a sigh, I slow down then come to a complete stop directly behind one of the two squad cars blocking the road. Sam groans, waking herself up.
"We're not there yet." Stretching, she lets out a yawn.
"No. They've set up roadblocks. We should be there soon." Sam nods as one of the cops swaggers to my driver's side window, which I roll down before he even has the chance to order me to.
"Please state your business." Reveling in the fact that I'm going to get a little thrill of power out of my next act, I reach into my jacket and pull out my Bureau identification and show it to him, waiting for him to squirm. It doesn't happen.
"So you're the agents going to the pen, huh?" The cop says, looking oddly unconcerned. Sam frowns as I reply.
" Yes, we're headed there. Mind letting us through now? They're expecting us before midnight." Sam glances at me worriedly, but I shrug it off, being too impatient to read into what she might have been trying to tell me.
"Hold on," The cop replies mildly. "I'll be back in a minute." And with that said with an undertone of arrogance, he swaggers back to one of the squad cars.
"I don't like the feel of this, John," Sam says quietly. "Not at all. Something's up-" Just when I'm about to console her, another cop appears in my headlights and pulls out his service revolver…aiming it right at me.
"John get down!" Sam screams as the driver's side half of the windshield is shattered by the spray of multiple gun shots. "Oh shit…we've been ambushed," Sam manages to gasp as I grab my SIG Sauer, aim it to a point over my head and start shooting back.
Suddenly, the passenger side door is wrenched open, and I twist around, my gun ready to fire…
…A second too late. Our attackers gun fires first, and I feel myself being slammed up against the drivers side door with the force of the bullet.
"Noooo!!!" Sam screams as I struggle to grab her, to help her. She's fighting our attacker, but he manages to knock her out and drag her out of my car.
"…Sam…" My voice comes out as a strangled gasp as I look down at myself. A dark stain grows steadily around my right shoulder. A squeal of tires announces the kidnapper's departure as I make a half-assed attempt to reach my cell phone. When I finally do, I call 911 and give them all the information the need. I just hope they make it in time…
~ Fin